Messages To An Angel
by DeathandJunkfood
Summary: After Cas is left in Purgatory, Dean has no way of telling the angel how he feels. A series of text messages from Dean that Cas will never read, expressing his feelings. When Cas comes back, he reads the messages and responds, but Dean never sees them. Just something I wrote in a spare fifteen minutes and ended up liking.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer... I do not own Supernatural**

 **So obviously Dean had a lot of guilt after Cas stayed in Purgatory. This is just Dean sending text messages to Cas's missing phone, thinking he's dead, and wanting to express his feelings somehow. Just something i wrote in my spare time, :)**

Cas?

I miss you.

Why didn't you come home with me?

I need you.

Cas, please come home.

I don't know what to do without you.

Cas?

You're dead, aren't you?

Jesus.

Cas, wherever you are, I miss you.

I can't do this without you.

You've been there for us for so long.

I didn't appreciate you enough.

I'm sorry.

Thank you. For everything.

Cas?

I'm sorry.

In Purgatory, I was happy. Because you were there. Every day, you were there.

You were always there.

You protected me.

I should've protected you.

I need you.

I miss you.

I want you safe.

I want you safe with _me_.

Damnit, Cas.

That handprint you left… When you pulled me out of Hell. Sometimes, I swear I could still feel you holding me.

It's too late now, isn't it?

For me to tell you everything.

There've been so many secrets and lies and evasions with us.

We broke a long time ago, Cas.

I'm sorry we never got the chance to put ourselves back together.

Castiel…

Dear Castiel who art nowhere that I know, I pray that you are safe now, that you are happy, and that you have forgotten all about me.

You were better off before you met me.

You should have let me roast in Hell.

But damnit, I can't wish it.

I'm glad we met.

I'm glad it all happened.

I'm glad we were together for that short time, even though it was only as friends.

Castiel.

Where are you?

Did the Leviathans get you?

Did you die, way down there, with no one to hold you?

Are your wings scorched into rock?

I wish I was there.

I wish you were here.

I wish we were together.

If you're alive, and you find me, I'll tell you.

I'll tell you everything.

I'll whisper it in your ear, if you want.

I'll shout it.

I'll scream it.

Cas.

I love you.


	2. The Boy Who Hunts The Things In The Dark

**Disclaimer... I do not own Supernatural.**

 **A few people requested a sequel of Cas's response, so here it is! Hope you enjoy.**

Dean.

I'm back.

I'm alive.

I've read your messages.

Are you there?

Are you alive?

Judging by your text messages you must have been alive fairly recently.

But of course, it would be just our luck if you were dead…

I read them Dean. And they were beautiful.

I never thought you felt the same way.

I've made so many mistakes, Dean.

I'm flawed.

And fallen.

What could I give you?

You taught me everything about humans.

But I still betrayed you.

I did it for you, please understand.

I hope you do.

One day.

It's a strange feeling, love, isn't it?

It feels like Grace.

Fire and ice.

It hurts, Dean.

Is it supposed to hurt?

Or is it just because you're not with me?

I don't know any of these things, Dean.

You said you could feel me through the handprint.

I could feel you too.

You burned bright, on the other side.

Have you ever seen an angel fall?

It's the most beautiful sight.

Joy and hope and fear and pain.

It's like love.

I think.

I'm not very good at this, Dean.

How do humans do this?

All the time…

Feelings, Dean.

They're so loud.

They crash against me like waves on a beach.

When I pulled you from Hell, you shone.

Everyone else was black and bloody in that burning pit.

You were pure.

You flickered once, twice, and glowed.

You were perfect.

And you were mine.

For a little while, before I pulled you out, I had you.

And then your soul found its vessel and you didn't trust me anymore.

It hurt so badly, Dean.

It ached like wings breaking.

Is that normal, Dean?

I don't know.

I don't know anything.

But I'm home now.

I'm alive.

You're alive (presumably).

Whatever it takes, I'll find you.

And I'll pray to God you'll forgive me.

Dean.

I love you.

I know that, at least.

I know that.

And if you whisper it, I'll shout it back.

Promise.

 **Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please review.**


	3. Eleventh Hour and All's Well

**Disclaimer... I do not own Supernatural**

 **I ended up writing another part just for fun, and then decided to post it. Here it is!**

Cas knew, the second he saw Dean. Dean hadn't seen the messages. But Cas had. His heart thumped wildly, the rhythm seeming to say ' _liar, liar, liar'_ every time Dean looked at him and didn't say anything.

 _If you're alive, and you find me, I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything... I love you._

Every time they looked at each other, Cas could see the broken promise filling the air, until it filled his eyes and made him want to rage and scream.

 _I read them, Dean. And they were beautiful._

There was such deceit and lies between the two of them, so tangled and twisted, that Cas knew if he severed one strand of the bitter bundle binding them, they would fall irrevocably apart.

 _We broke a long time ago, Cas._

He closed his eyes. Curious, the way broken promises could make you feel simultaneously betrayed and guilty. Emotions were so subtle. Fading from white to grey to black so gradually you never even noticed the colour change until it was too late and you were mired in darkness. Angels had nothing like that, and the spectrum of human emotions was impossibly broad.

He wasn't naïve enough to assume that Dean had never lied to him, he knew for a fact that the hunter had lied to him before, and often, but he _had_ assumed Dean wouldn't lie about something like this.

He was a fool.

 _Maybe Dean's frightened,_ he tried to reason with himself, _maybe it was too daunting to say it face to face._

 _That's no excuse,_ his more unreasonable side sulked.

Cas sighed. He was sitting in a park, deep forest in front of him that reminded him of Purgatory, and blue sky so bright and pure it reminded him of the unending expanses of Heaven.

He was no good at this. At human emotions and human problems. Normally he would ask Dean- but that wasn't really an option.

Next to the molded plastic playground, there was a sign that listed age limits and supervision suggestions.

Small children bundled into brightly coloured sweaters ran about, screaming hysterically and Cas winced.

"Dean…"

He let the name pass his lips, carried away by a breath of wind. Part of him knew he should let that happen to this whole affair. Let the wind pick it up and carry it away like a sheet of forgotten paper until neither he nor Dean could quite remember notes and promises. Cas knew he wouldn't, though. He was selfish. He had been waiting for a long time.

Maybe it was up to him. Dean hadn't seen his messages, after all. Maybe he worried his feelings weren't reciprocated. Cas worried at his lip, a human quirk that he'd picked up from Dean. It didn't seem to help. He stopped.

"Dean" he whispered, imagining how Dean felt as he prayed to him. "Dean, I'm not sure how to do this. I am, after all, for all my faults, and they are many, an angel. You are, in the end, for all your perfection, a human. You know far more of love than I. I wish it was you, saying this now, but it's not. I suppose this is practise. Humans practice, yes? When they're nervous? Well, I'm nervous now. More scared than I've ever been, actually. This is so huge, and yet so small. It is the most important thing, and extraordinarily inconsequential. More contradictions. Humans are full of them. So small and frail, yet impossibly strong. But I'm getting off track. I'm babbling. This is too hard, Dean. I've already said the words. You just never saw them…"

He trailed off, staring into the distance before pulling out his phone. He read Dean's messages, and his replies, both of them believing the other to be dead. He'd read Dean's, but Dean hadn't read his.

Cas quickly stood, almost tripping in his haste, and hurried out of the park. He was on a quest. To find an internet café.

He quickly found one, and booted up a computer, downloading the texts and printing them out onto a couple of A-4 sheets of paper.

And then he drove. He drove to a nameless cheap motel that the Winchesters were in, and shoved the pieces of paper in an envelope. He scrawled across it with a black Sharpie, which seemed too brutish for the purpose. "FOR DEAN" it said.

He slid the paper under the door, and knocked once, before hurrying away.

Dean could clearly hear the single knock on the thin, cheap plywood of the motel door, and stood, sighing as his knee popped. He'd injured it in Purgatory, and it had a tendency to act up sometimes.

He stiffened as he remembered the circumstances.

 _It had been a group of vamps, seven or more. They had fought like a single entity, but Cas, Dean and Benny were still able to dispatch most of them. The one that was left hooked its foot around Dean's knee and yanked, sending him crashing to the ground. Before Benny or Cas could get to him, the vamp brought a heavy stone club down on his knee, sending spikes of ice up and down his leg. The ice soon melted and flared to fire. Benny got the vampire, but the damage was done. They were stuck for several days, Dean shivering as he went into shock. Benny volunteered to go collect firewood, but Dean didn't miss the appraising glance he tossed at Cas, who was sitting next to Dean, backs against a tree. Dean's head felt wobbly on his neck and he let it drop onto Cas's shoulder, leaning against the angel. Cas felt several degrees warmer that a normal human, from what Dean could tell. He was pressed against him from hip to shoulder, legs out in front of them, brushing slightly._

 _He felt the angel freeze when he leaned closer, but then relax. Dean was too tired to care anymore. Cas's body heat seemed to help the terrible cold he felt, somewhat, and the softness of another human body was comforting. Cas's especially._

 _Dean turned his head so it rested neatly in the crook of Castiel's neck, his own breath making a warm tropical micro climate. "Are you ok?" Cas sounded uncertain. Dean didn't blame him. He was pretty friggin' confused, himself._

 _"Yeah. S'fine. Just hurts"_

 _Cas seemed to hesitate for a moment, before leaning forward to lay a gentle hand on the injured knee. Dean whined for a moment about the loss of his headrest, before looking at what Castiel was doing. "No, dude, you can't heal me. You'll attract every Leviathan in Purgatory. God knows we have enough problems without broadcasting our position. I'll be fine tomorrow"_

 _Cas ignored him. "I'm not using any angelic powers, Dean. This is just- innate. I don't control it"_

 _Dean stopped paying attention to Cas's words when heat started to flow from his fingers. It wasn't the burning, white hot pain of before; it was soothing warmth, like sinking into a hot bath. He let out an involuntary moan, and Cas removed his hand, leaning back against the tree._

 _Dean's head fell back against Castiel's neck unconsciously._

 _He turned his head towards Cas, licking his lips nervously. "Thanks" he murmured. They were close enough to kiss, all Dean would have to do would be lean slightly forwards- Cas's eyes were as blue as the sky that they had left behind, above. Sometimes Dean hardly remembered that sky, hardly remembered that there was anything but Purgatory and mindless survival._

 _Looking into Cas's eyes, he remembered._

 _And he pulled away, putting his head back on the angel's shoulder._

He shook himself out of the daze, crossing to the door and wrenching open the door more violently than necessary.

"Who is it?" Sam called, from the bathroom.

"No one" Dean said, as his eyes fell upon the envelope. If it concerned Sam, he could tell his brother later. He picked it up, and glanced around the motel room. He didn't really want to read whatever it was, in there.

He recognized the handwriting, thick and scrawling as it was. It was Cas's. And so, he scooped the Impala's keys off the bedside table, and crossed the parking lot.

The envelope made a satisfying noise as he ripped it open. Loose, printed pages, numbered pages, spilled out. He picked up the first one, scanning it, before freezing. Dean recognized those words. His words. His eyes skipped over most of the first page, picking out words like _love_ and _promise_ and _together._

The next piece, he read more carefully. Cas's notes were just as short and pain filled as his own, but more confused.

 _It hurts, Dean...Is it supposed to hurt? It ached like wings breaking… I'm not very good at this, Dean…_

He ached for the angel. So that's why Cas had looked like a kicked puppy every time he saw him lately. Dean sucked his lower lip between his teeth as he looked at his own words.

 _I'll tell you everything. I'll whisper it in your ear, if you want. I'll shout it. I'll scream it. Cas. I love you._

 _Broken promises_ he thought, flipping through the pages. There was one he hadn't read, one that wasn't notes, and he pulled it out to read.

 _I read your messages a long time ago, Dean. I replied. And then you never got them and you never told me even though you promised. I blamed you. That wasn't fair. I blamed you for not being brave enough, when I was the real coward. So, I figure it's time you read these. You should know what you're getting into, after all. I'll be waiting for you. And since I figure you've been waiting a while, and I have too, for that matter, I'll say it again. Dean, I love you._

Dean let out a half laugh, half sob as he folded the papers back together carefully.

"Cas?" he said aloud, "Castiel, are you there? I read them, and they were beautiful" he unconsciously mimicked the angel's words.

There was a fluttering noise, and Cas was there. His tie was askew and his eyes were fixed firmly on the ground.

Dean could tell he was tense and nervous, and he slid his hand across the seat towards Cas, stopping just shy of the angel's hand resting on the leather upholstery.

"Cas…"

Cas's hand moved slightly, just a millimetre, but it was enough. Holding tight to each other like they hadn't in Purgatory, all the fear and loss and guilt moving back and forth through their skin until they knew the knots were starting to untie.

Dean moved his other hand slowly, reaching up to cup Cas's cheek, brushing his thumb absently over the cheekbone. He moved until he was facing the angel, close enough that he could feel Cas's heat through his trench coat and feel his breath on his skin. The angel smelled of earth and wood smoke and salt, startlingly earthly scents for an angel, but Dean closed his eyes and breathed in.

Slowly, tentatively, they leant forward until their noses bumped clumsily, lips falling on one another almost as if by accident.

Dean let out a huff of laughter, feeling like a teenager again, and Cas grinned against his mouth as he tilted his head, angling his mouth so they fit together neatly. Cas's hand held the back of Dean's neck, and the other rested on his cheek, palm flush against his jaw.

Dean slid his arm around Cas's waist until his hand touched the small of Castiel's back, making him gasp slightly with surprise. Dean took the opportunity to run his tongue over Cas's lower lip, before breaking away and laying a kiss by his jaw, and down the side of his neck. He'd never kissed a boy before, and the rough stubble against his mouth was a strange sensation.

Cas let out another soft gasp, arching his back and tangling his fingers in Dean's hair gently, feeling as if his bones were softening and melting inside his body, every nerve in his body spinning into overdrive as they tried to cope with the sensations.

There was a pool of warmth in his chest, and he realized with pleasure that he'd described something accurately. Love. It was like Grace, and he could feel it reach into every corner of his body, as much a part of him as his Grace.

 _My brother and sister angels will never have this,_ he realized with a terrible sadness, _never have the sensation of falling brightly and gloriously despite the fact that they're safe in someone's arms. They will never know that pure and rapturous fall that lands you not on the ground, but in somebody's heart. When they fall, they fall in agony, because they have seen God and Heaven and never will again._

"Dean" he whispered, and Dean lifted his head. His green eyes shone, and the faint lines around his eyes and mouth caused by grief and stress seemed smoothed away, until he looked not much older than the boy Cas had pulled from Hell, and held close to his chest.

"Dean- I love you"

Dean leaned close, like he had in Purgatory months ago, when Cas had thought for a single dizzying second that he was going to kiss him. His lips were right beside Castiel's ear, and he shivered.

"Castiel" he whispered, lowly, roughly, yet still sweetly, "I know. And I love you too"

Maybe the secret wasn't cutting the knots. Maybe it was waiting for them to loosen and until till they were forgotten, and sloughed away like a snake's shed skin. Maybe it was a matter of hope, of deciding it was ok, and deciding to forget. Cas wasn't quite sure, but he knew that it was working, and that was all that really mattered.

Humans had perfected it, the art of _not being sure_. Deciding that not knowing was ok, too, that keeping some things a mystery just added to the joy of life. It was strange and wonderful, and it made Cas's heart ache in an entirely different way than before.

 **The End.**

 **HOLY cRAP that was cheesy. And angsty. And silly. And all the y-s, really. Anyways, thank you for reading. If you enjoyed, (despite the y's) please review!**


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